


burning from the inside out

by safarikalamari



Series: Consentacles [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Developing Relationship, Double Anal Penetration, Eldritch, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluffy Ending, Identity Reveal, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safarikalamari/pseuds/safarikalamari
Summary: Geralt sees Jaskier for what he truly is and ends up in quite the spot.Not that he minds in the slightest.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Consentacles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868677
Comments: 20
Kudos: 431





	burning from the inside out

Jaskier hasn’t tried to kill him yet.

From the moment the bard approached him in Posada, Geralt knew what he had on his hands wasn’t human. Dangerous? Possibly. Unusual? No question. 

His medallion hums when Jaskier is near, but Geralt can’t quite figure out his scent. He’s battled many creatures, but Jaskier is something new all together. Perhaps an ancient being forgotten to history or something that has just crawled out from the depths of the earth. 

Whatever he is, Geralt finds he couldn’t care less. The bard is good company and he does his fair share of earning coin in their travels together. If Jaskier had just wanted Geralt as a midnight snack, he would’ve done so by now. 

Still, Geralt sleeps with his swords close to him at night, makes sure Jaskier is in a deep slumber before he allows himself to drift off. During the day, any threat disappears and Geralt almost convinces himself that Jaskier is just a human, although a special one. 

That is, until one day when Geralt is surrounded by drowners, his body weakening from one too many blows. He draws strength from his adrenaline, lifts his sword again but as he does so, some drowners begin to flee, others snarling at something behind him. Geralt doesn’t have a chance to see what it is, something heavy colliding with his head and he falls down, vision going dark. 

Geralt awakens to a fire and Jaskier sitting on the other side, tending to the flames. Geralt grunts as he pushes himself up only to be stopped as Jaskier rushes over and makes him tense up. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier apologises, putting an arm on Geralt’s shoulder. “I wanted to help, but I wasn’t ready for you to see everything.”

Geralt plays these words on repeat in his mind before he takes a breath. “What are you?”

Jaskier swallows, ducking his head as he shifts back. His answer takes too long, but Geralt does his best to bite his tongue.

“I suppose you could call me an eldritch being,” Jaskier says at last.

Geralt wracks his mind for anything similar, but he draws a blank. In all his years of hunting, studying, there’s nothing that suggests what Jaskier is. 

“There’s not many of us left,” Jaskier continues on. “We’ve been hiding for centuries.”

“Alright,” Geralt nods and lays back down.

He has questions, but not the words to say them yet. So for now, he’ll let Jaskier talk if he wishes.

“Wait, that’s it?” Jaskier frowns. “You’re not going to yell at me to leave or strike me down?”

“You haven’t done either to me,” Geralt shrugs. This unusual kindness comes out of nowhere, but then again, Jaskier has been a good companion and Geralt doesn’t want to lose the one person who hasn’t seen him as a monster. 

“Oh, um, okay,” Jaskier nods, unsure of this revelation. 

At last, a smile spreads on his face and he shuffles closer to Geralt, hugging his knees close to his chest. The atmosphere becomes bright again, as if nothing had transpired between them. Jaskier chatters on about nothing in particular, but finally one of Geralt’s questions bubbles to the surface. 

“Will you let me see you?” Geralt interrupts without thinking.

Jaskier pauses, his eyes widening a little as he searches Geralt’s face. His mouth opens and closes for a bit before Geralt speaks again. 

“You don’t have to.”

With a sigh, Jaskier runs a hand through his hair. “I’d like you to see what I really am but I don’t want to frighten you.”

Geralt almost laughs at this. Here they are, two very different souls, yet still harboring the same doubt. “Nothing scares a witcher.”

Jaskier smirks a little at this and places a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Well, if you say so. Tomorrow though. You should rest for tonight.”

With a nod, Geralt once again listens as Jaskier turns their conversation back to everyday things, where their next adventure lies. Before long, Geralt’s eyes begin to droop and for the first night in a while, he doesn’t go to sleep with his swords beside him.

* * *

Geralt is anxious.

Jaskier had said he would show Geralt his true form, but with the night lingering on, there still hasn’t been any sign of that happening. Geralt doesn’t want to force Jaskier and worries that perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. 

The evening has been unusually quiet, Jaskier not even playing his lute as he sits in front of the fire. Geralt has taken to polishing his swords, but it does little to distract his mind. His mind starts to eat at him and Geralt thinks to say something. 

“I think I’m ready,” Jaskier speaks first and gets to his feet. 

With a blink, Geralt sets his sword to the side and waits, eyes on Jaskier. Anticipation rises in his chest as he watches Jaskier breathe, his hands clenched into fists. Darkness circles around Jaskier, molding and stretching until there are tendrils all around him, moving as if each has their own mind. 

As Jaskier steps closer to Geralt, some tendrils reach out, searching, and Geralt’s stomach turns. His curiosity gets the best of him, one of his hands meeting a tendril halfway. It curls around his hand and Geralt studies its movements. 

“Can you feel that?” he asks as Jaskier stands over him. 

“Whatever they feel, I feel,” Jaskier nods. 

More tendrils wrap themselves around Geralt, some wrapping around his arms, others touching his hair. He’s not frightened in the least. In fact, a sense of calm washes over him and he lets the tendrils explore as they wish. 

Jaskier’s face has gone red, but Geralt lets him be, turning his attention back to the first tendril that had wrapped around his hand. A strange thought enters his mind and Geralt doesn’t fight it as he brings the tendril up to his face. He kisses it, watches Jaskier visibly shiver before he takes the tendril into his mouth.

There is an audible gasp and some of the tendrils tighten around Geralt as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes. Keeping his gaze on Jaskier, Geralt sucks on the tendril, relishes in the way it wiggles around in his mouth, the sudden presence of Jaskier pressing close to him. 

“If you keep doing this, I might lose control,” Jaskier breathes, his crotch just before Geralt’s face. 

Letting the tendril slip from his mouth, Geralt nuzzles at the bulge in Jaskier’s breeches, pulling a low moan from the bard. Leaving a kiss, Geralt looks up at Jaskier, his lust growing as full blown eyes stare back at him. 

“Do what you want,” Geralt nods.

Jaskier whines before his tendrils lift Geralt up, some slipping under his clothes while others start to tear them off. Geralt’s hands are trapped above his head, his legs pulled apart as a fire takes over his body. 

The tendrils on his chest flick at his nipples, rubbing them until they become hard, red nubs. Geralt arches, the sensitivity of his chest shooting to his groin. His hardening cock is being well attended to, a few tendrils gripping tight at the base, others fondling his balls. Geralt is at Jaskier’s whim and it only makes his hunger grow, mouth dropping open at the pleasure that shoots up his spine. 

“Beautiful. Fucking beautiful,” Jaskier mutters, his gaze locked on Geralt’s body as shreds of clothing are pulled away, leaving Geralt in nothing at all. 

Two tendrils push themselves into Geralt’s mouth and he sucks on them greedily as he listens to Jaskier’s pants and moans. 

“You’re going to drive me mad, Geralt,” Jaskier moans, running a hand up Geralt’s thigh. 

Geralt rumbles, filled with this desire to give Jaskier all the pleasure he wants. As a tendril on his cock begins to stroke him, Geralt closes his eyes, ready to let his body be used. He jerks when there is a tendril circling his hole, but Jaskier’s voice is soothing, reassuring as the tendril begins to prod. Doing his best to relax, Geralt shakes as the tendril pushes into him, slick and warm as it stretches him open. 

“So good for me,” Jaskier purrs. 

The tendril pauses, letting Geralt adjust to the intrusion and it’s then Jaskier’s mouth traces across Geralt’s neck. A low moan leaves Geralt and he presses into the touch that isn’t the tendrils, embracing the heat of Jaskier’s skin. 

When the tendril inside him curls, Geralt jerks, eyes rolling up as intense pleasure shoots through his body. 

“Yes, just like that,” Jaskier encourages him as the tendril curls again. “Tell me what you want, Geralt.”

The tendrils in his mouth wiggle away to let him speak and Geralt swallows, his thoughts hazy with lust. “You. I want everything.”

There is a chuckle and Geralt’s mouth drops open as Jaskier nudges his cock next to the tendril that’s already stuffing Geralt full. His hole stretches impossibly more, a warm burn that makes Geralt shiver. Jaskier’s cock and the tendril move opposite of each other, giving him no chance to catch his breath. His bruised prostate takes as much as it can, but Geralt’s stomach coils and he succumbs to his orgasm with a shout. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moans, his cock and the tendril speeding up. 

Warm liquid spills into Geralt’s ass, so much that it begins to drip out of him, running down his thighs. Geralt is far away, hardly registering the tendrils that gently lay him on the ground, Jaskier’s body, now bare, sliding close. 

A wet cloth cleans him and Geralt looks up into Jaskier’s eyes, loving and warm. 

“Never took you for a man who would enjoy this so much,” Jaskier teases and presses a kiss to Geralt’s temple. 

“Lucky for you, I’m not a man,” Geralt responds. 

Jaskier laughs at this, shaking his head. “Alright. Witcher then.”

The corners of Geralt’s mouth quirk up and he reaches toward Jaskier, tangling his fingers in Jaskier’s hair. The two meet each other in a soft kiss, Jaskier pressing his hand to Geralt’s chest. It is a tender moment and when the embrace is broken, Geralt’s heart swells. 

Jaskier will be his secret. He will protect him at all costs, keep him alive and safe from the outside world. 

And, well, if that comes with the fantastic sex, Geralt is far from complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> I would really like to write more about Jaskier in this form so please feel free to comment with some prompts!!!


End file.
